"Lioraen?"
A familiar voice cut through the fading echoes of the relic shot.
He turned, breath heavy.
*Imyn…*
He glanced at who shot the relic.
*... and Mr. Corvel. Rae's father.*
They approached out of the smoke-filled street, weapons in hand. Imyn's clothes were torn, his face covered in soot, but his eyes widened the moment he saw Lioraen.
"You're alive…" Imyn breathed.
He stepped forward quickly and took the crying child from Lioraen's teeth, holding the baby against his chest. His gaze fell to Lioraen's severed arm, stiffening in shock.
"Lio… your hand..."
Lioraen glanced at it. "In a creature's stomach."
Mr. Corvel didn't look at the wound. He was scanning the street.
His hands tightened on the long, ancient relic.
Then he looked at Lioraen.
"Where is my daughter?" The question sank in before he spoke again. "Where is Rae?"
Lioraen gazed at the man. He didn't know if he was exhausted from his two days' journey or irritated with the situation.
"I lost her," he said bluntly.
"That's!..." Imyn gasped. "She's... really gone? Rae is really gone."
"Took her right off my hand." He shrugged, turning to stare at where the relic bullet had hit the creatures.
Mr. Corvel's face tightened. Grief flickered through his eyes, but he didn't speak.
He simply stared at the boy who had returned without his daughter and one of his arms.
Imyn shifted awkwardly, glancing between them, unsure whether to step back or step in. The baby's soft whimpers were the only sound.
Mr. Corvel finally spoke, voice breaking at the edges.
"Your mother…"
Lioraen swallowed.
"I lost her to the same creature that took Rae from me," he replied, just as blunt as the first reply.
An awkward silence settled over them.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Imyn cleared his throat, shifting the baby in his arms.
"First, let's return to camp before the creatures come back," he said carefully.
Lioraen didn't answer.
He turned the other way.
Imyn stiffened. "Where are you going?!"
"I'm searching for the creature," Lioraen said over his shoulder, already taking a step.
"Lioraen! That's absurd! You can't go off searching for one creature!"
"Sure I can." He shrugged.
"Lioraen..."
"Get off my back, Imyn." He sighed, his feet dragging forward with stubborn purpose.
Finally, Mr. Corvel spoke.
"Come back with us, Lio. We need to treat your wounds, or you'll die."
Lioraen paused.
"You won't be able to avenge anyone in that state. What's more, your untreated arm will rot."
The words sank in slowly, cutting through the haze of anger and exhaustion. He exhaled, sharp and unsteady, then finally turned back toward them.
Imyn let out a tense breath of relief and gestured toward the path.
They started moving.
But the ground trembled.
A deep rumble spread beneath their feet.
"Shit! They followed the relic sound!" Imyn gasped.
From different directions, hordes of the creatures swarmed out of nowhere, dozens, screeching, their eyes stretching like hunting spears.
"Run!" Corvel barked.
They sprinted toward the transport wagon, a massive iron-framed vehicle reinforced with thick wooden plating and rune-lined wheels. It sat like a war relic at the edge of the street.
More beasts poured out behind them.
Imyn climbed in first, clutching the baby. Corvel shoved Lioraen forward and jumped in after him, slamming the heavy door shut.
Inside the wagon, Lioraen caught his breath.
Then his eyes went outside.
He froze.
A cold, violent rage rose inside him so fast it nearly made him dizzy.
The one-eyed beast.
He slammed the door open.
"Lioraen!" Imyn shouted, voice cracking. "Where the hell are you going!!"
"Return without me!" Lioraen barked. "I'll kill that beast!"
"That's unreasonable!" Mr. Corvel yelled from the front, hands already gripping the wheel of the wagon. "You'll die out there!"
"That thing—!" Lioraen's voice tore from his chest, raw and shaking with fury.
"That thing took my family from me! That freaking thing took Rae from me!"
They hesitated a bit.
"Lioraen! You can't kill it in your current condition!" Imyn reached for him.
"That's not for you to decide!" He dashed forward.
The horde closed in, too many, too fast.
Imyn yelled for Lioraen again, but the creatures flooded the street like a swarm. Their screeches drowned everything. Their limbs slammed against the wagon's sides.
"Drive!" Imyn shouted, clutching the baby tight.
Mr. Corvel hesitated only a heartbeat before he started the wagon. It lurched forward, wheels grinding against broken stone.
"Lioraen! Lioraen!" Imyn kept calling, leaning out the window, but the beasts surged between them, blocking his view.
They lost sight of him in seconds.
They were forced to drive away.
Forced to abandon him.
Inside the storm of monsters, Lioraen fought.
He swung his blade in raw, violent fury, cutting into flesh and bone, pushing forward even as claws tore at his clothes and teeth snapped at his skin.
He didn't think.
He didn't breathe.
He just killed.
One after another, again and again.
Driven only by rage, he fought a draining battle.
Monsters fell around him in heaps, black blood soaking the dirt. Severed eye-stalks writhed on the ground. Bodies collapsed in piles, stacked over each other, forming mounds he had to climb and cut through.
His left arm shook violently.
Each swing grew heavier. Each step slower.
*I can't breathe.*
Exhaustion claimed him at last.
His legs trembled.
*Not yet! Not yet!*
His heartbeat throbbed in his ears, drowning everything else.
He jammed his knee into one creature's chest, pinned it, and drove his blade straight through its throat. Hot blood sprayed across his face. Another beast leapt onto his back, its teeth scraping his shoulder, so he slammed himself backward into a broken pillar until the crunch stopped its movement. He ripped it free and hurled it aside.
Then—
He finally saw it.
The creature his mother fought with and injured its eye.
Its massive form towered over the fallen bodies. It was bigger than any creature he had ever fought.
Lioraen's grip tightened even as his arm nearly gave out.
"You damn bastard!"
He ran toward it, feet slipping in blood-soaked soil.
The beast met him halfway, jaws widening in a sickening grin of teeth.
Its claw came down like an executioner's axe. Lioraen barely twisted aside, the ground erupting where he'd been standing. He slashed upward, steel biting deep into its forearm, but the creature barely flinched. It struck again, faster. The blow sent him skidding across the dirt.
He pushed up. Staggered and charged again.
Their clash shook the air. The beast slammed him to the ground, its weight crushing the wind from his lungs.
He shoved his blade between its ribs.
It bellowed a furious screech.
"I'm not done with you yet!"
With his palm, he hit the sword, driving the metal into its chest.
The creature thrashed, snarling, claws gouging trenches in the earth.
Lioraen sat up, panting. He walked to the creature, drawing his second sword from its scabbard.
He raised his hand high above his head—
But the moment the blade descended, something flared behind his eyes.
A vision. Of faces.
Tiny hands reaching, grasping his cloth.
"End it," they chanted. "Please, it hurts!"
Children laughing just days before.
His neighbor, the quiet woman who traded herbs with him.
The old grumpy man who always complained about the weather.
And Rae.
All the people the creature had devoured.
His breath hitched. His grip loosened.
"No…" he whispered, staggering as grief unraveled his rage. "No..."
The hesitation lasted a heartbeat.
It was enough.
A wet, fleshy sound tore through the moment.
**Shhkkt.**
Lioraen's eyes widened as the beast's hidden tentacle shot upward, punching straight through his stomach. The force lifted him off his feet, his blade falling from his hands as blood spilled warm down his side.
He gasped, choking on his breath and blood.
The creature's single eye stared up at him, glowing with triumphant hunger.
Lioraen's fingers twitched, reaching for his fallen weapon—
But his strength slipped through him like water.
The world tilted.
And the beast's tentacle dragged him
closer, inch by inch, toward its waiting jaws.
TBC..